Sample only Love, Pride & Delicacy: A Brighton Adventure
by MareeApps
Summary: I've had to remove the majority of this story for the next three months to meet Kindle Unlimited exclusivity requirements. I apologise for any inconvenience.
1. Chapter 1

**So, why am I posting a new story when I haven't finished the first one I started? Well, I was given an offer I couldn't refuse: join a challenge with a group of awesome JAFF authors - some well known, some new like me. ****Can't say too much just yet, but I can say Brighton is involved. Keep an eye out as I know a few of the authors involved publish their WIPs on FF too :)**

**Please be aware this is an unedited work in progress. While I strive for perfection, I can almost guarantee there will be errors.**  
**I hope you enjoy the story.**  
**xx Maree**

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Fitzwilliam Darcy paced a length of the grove nearby Rosings, his Aunt's residence, before turning and retracing his steps. The leaves no longer crunched, nor did the twigs snap, as he had repeated this process countless times already; the path worn beneath his boots.

He busied his hands, tracing his thumb and forefinger along the folds and over the wax seal of the letter he carried, to prevent from again checking his pocket watch. Releasing a sigh, Darcy turned once more.

He believed Miss Bennet to be an early riser. He also believed her to be a creature of habit, and unlikely to forego her morning walk through the grove without reason.

That it was his harsh words the previous evening that may have lain cause to her missing her exercise vexed him greatly. Despite his best efforts, Darcy's feelings for Elizabeth had refused to be repressed. He cared deeply for her, and could not bear having caused her distress.

But Darcy could not abide disguise. He could not pretend to rejoice in the inferiority of Elizabeth's position. Nor, from what he had witnessed of her family, could he foresee improvement to her circumstance.

_"___I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."__

Her words played endlessly in his head. Despite the harshness of delivery, in the cold light of day, Darcy knew Elizabeth was right to reject his proposal. He had succumbed to his feelings, disregarding his apprehension towards her relations. Darcy rubbed at his chest. Her words of the previous night still carried a sting.

He did his best to convince himself her opinion of his character was of no consequence. Indeed, it was her interest in George Wickham's concerns that had him restless and unable to sleep, until finally he found himself seated at his desk, penning the letter he now held.

The words had poured from his quill, spilling the secrets of Wickham's wickedness and betrayal and by consequence, Darcy's own shame at having failed his sister so greatly.

Darcy set out to the grove at first light and had been pacing the path ever since. As the hours passed and the sun rose above the treeline, he had no choice but to accept he would not see Miss Bennet on her walk this morning.

Turning one final time, Darcy headed towards the track that would lead him back to Rosings. As he reached the junction he looked toward Hunsford. His heart quickened at the sight of a lone female figure approaching.

Miss Bennet was residing at the parsonage during her visit to Kent. Darcy had little tolerance for Mr Collins, finding the Rector quite insufferable. Fortunately, Mr Collins held himself in high enough esteem that Darcy's opinion of him was of little consequence.

_"___I have never desired your good opinion." __The recollection of Elizabeth's scathing rejection weighed on him still. It seemed Darcy's opinions of others were of little consequence to anyone.

His hand tightened around the letter. How foolish she would feel when she knew the truth of her beloved Wickham's despicable behaviour. Unlike his sister Georgiana, who remained enamoured with the scoundrel despite herself falling victim to his schemes, Darcy held faith Elizabeth would take heed of his warnings once apprised of the truth.

__If she believed him. __

He shook his head. He'd allowed Miss Bennet to occupy his waking thoughts far too greatly. Heat filled his cheeks as his memory replayed scandalous images of the dreams she had also occupied.

"Enough!" He spoke the word sternly, as though scolding a misbehaving child.

A startled squeak drew his attention the woman who now stood but a few yards away. He unclenched his fist and attempted to smooth the additional creases he had created in the letter.

"Mr Darcy, are you quite well?"

The timid voice was most certainly not that of Elizabeth Bennet. He should have known from first appearance, even at great distance. Elizabeth never bowed her head or looked at her feet while she walked as this woman had done. Elizabeth always stood tall and took pleasure in the scenery around her.

"Mr Darcy?"

"Oh yes, right…" Darcy cleared his throat. "Mrs Collins, good morning."

Mrs Collins bowed her head in greeting. "Good morning, Mr Darcy." She looked up before quickly returning her gaze to the ground in front of her feet.

Darcy found the action unnerving. Indeed, Elizabeth's confident nature, despite her circumstance, was one of the things he admired most. The corner of his lip tilted in an almost imperceptible smirk as he recalled the way she most effectively handled the great Lady Catherine.

Mrs Collins shuffled her feet, drawing Darcy's awareness to the silence that had fallen between them. He cleared his throat before uttering, "Lovely morning."

"Yes."

Awkward silence again grew between them. Darcy knew it was improper to keep Mrs Collins standing in the middle of the road thus. He desperately wished to ask after Elizabeth, but could think of no way to broach the topic without disclosing more of his opinion to the pastor's wife than he desired.

"Are you headed to Rosings, Mrs Collins? I am headed that way myself and would be happy to accompany you." He gestured in the direction she had been walking, expecting her to resume her journey.

"Oh no, Mr Darcy." She threw her hand against her mouth, as though to push the words back in. "I mean, yes I would be happy for you to accompany me should I be heading to Rosings, but Rosings is not my intended destination."

Darcy's eyebrows dipped down, his brow furrowed with confusion. He turned to look down the track. Rosings was the only destination within appropriate walking distance for a lady. He returned his gaze to Mrs Collin's feet, noting the slippers she wore showed signs of damage, and in his opinion where highly ineffective for the rigours of walking any great distance.

Mrs Collins' soft voice again broke the silence. "I guess I did not really have a destination in mind when I set out. I confess I am not really one for taking exercise. It is just, Lizzy always seems so at peace when she returns from her walks, I thought I might try it myself."

"I see. And Miss Elizabeth, she did not wish to join you on your walk?" Darcy was again working his fingers along the creases of the letter he held.

Mrs Collins shook her head. "If Lizzy were still here, I do not believe my need to walk would have been so great. Mr Collins was most displeased at her sudden departure early this morning. He is in quite a state over what Lady Catherine will think. She was expecting us all…"

Mrs Collins continued to prattle about her insipid husband's displeasure, but Darcy's mind was stuck on her comment of Elizabeth's departure. He turned his attention back to Mrs Collins who, upon noticing his scrutiny, finally stopped speaking.

"Miss Elizabeth has departed, you say?"

"Yes, this morning. She was quite distressed, insisting she must leave at first light. I do hope she has not taken ill. She was not at all her usual self."

"Right. I see."

Mrs Collins raised her head, taking a moment to look him over. Darcy stood rigid, finding her attention discomforting. She tilted her head to the side, as though analysing her findings. "Were you hoping to cross paths with her this morning, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy opened his mouth to respond before the challenging nature of Mrs Collins' enquiry became evident.

"I beg your pardon?"

Mrs Collins nodded towards the letter in his hand. Darcy looked down and saw Elizabeth's name clearly inscribed in his handwriting. "I would be happy to forward your letter with my next correspondence to Lizzy if you please. I always thought she protested too greatly against your character." Though her expression remained stoic, Darcy saw mischief in the pastor's wife's eyes.

Heat filled his cheeks, no doubt accompanied by redness. Standing before this woman, Darcy felt exposed. What of their encounter the previous evening had Elizabeth shared with her friend?

He inhaled deeply and worked to maintain his external composure, despite the deluge of internal turmoil he suffered. Then he calmed. Mrs Collins believed Elizabeth would be interested in receiving his correspondence. Indeed, Mrs Collins' willingness to conspire to deliver such a letter, putting both her own and Elizabeth's reputations at risk, made clear to Darcy that Elizabeth had not confided to her friend of her rejection of his proposal the previous evening.

Darcy tucked the letter into the pocket of his jacket. "Thank you but that will not be necessary, Mrs Collins. It is of no consequence. I must allow you to continue your walk and be on my way. Good day to you, madam." He bowed his head in a gesture of farewell, then turned and made quick strides back to Rosings.

He heard a belated farewell from Mrs Collins as he walked away. What had he been thinking, pacing the grove in the hopes of running into Elizabeth. He should be thankful she had not taken her usual walk this morning. Had she been seen receiving a letter from him, alone in the grove, her reputation would be in ruins.

Knowing Elizabeth as he believed he did, she would likely accuse him of an attempt to trap her into accepting his proposal. He imagined her justifying his behaviour as an endeavour to lessen the blow to his immeasurable pride. In his mind he saw her clearly, her dark curls bouncing around her shoulders, her dark eyes glistening with ire as she took him to task for his perceived wrongdoings. His lips quirked at the preposterous notion.

He shook his head, once again fruitlessly attempting to dislodge the incessant presence of Elizabeth in his thoughts. In truth, the entire situation was preposterous. Darcy could not have imagined proposing marriage to any woman at this point in his life. He could scarce believe he had succumbed to his desires to the point of proposing to a woman of such scant means and inferior connections. So out of character were his actions, he would not have been surprised to learn he had been bewitched into behaving as such.

"Darcy!" The booming voice of Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam pulled Darcy from his thoughts. "There you are, man. I was beginning to think you might have left without me."

"Allow me to allay your fear, cousin, for as you see I am quite obviously not left without you. Though we really should be away. Are the horses readied?" Darcy continued his long strides past his cousin as he headed directly to the stables.

"Steady on, Darce. Do you not think it wise bid farewell to Aunt Catherine before we leave? She will be most displeased to discover you left without proper notice."

Darcy's strides did not falter in the slightest. "Unlike you, cousin, it has been a great many years since I have been in want of Aunt Catherine's good opinion." There was only one woman whose good opinion of him held value, and for the life of him, Darcy could not understand what it was about Miss Elizabeth Bennet that made that so. "Besides, the great beauty in my manner of taking leave is that I am not present to witness our Aunt's great displeasure."

Behind him, he heard the Colonel chuckle. "You are a braver man than I, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Reaching the stables, Darcy found the horses were indeed readied. Moments later he was mounted and on his way to London, where he intended to put thoughts of Elizabeth out of his mind for good.


	2. Chapter 2

"Lizzy, pray tell me what weighs so greatly on your mind. You have not been at all yourself since your return from Kent."

Elizabeth Bennet looked down to where Jane had settled her petite fingers over Lizzy's own hand on the carriage bench between them, then looked up to her beloved sister's face. Worry had etched itself in Jane's delicate features. Inwardly, Lizzy cursed herself for not making a more concerted effort to conceal her own disquiet.

"Do you have misgivings over rejecting the proposal?"

Lizzy froze. The proposal? She had gone to great pains to keep that matter private; even from her most trusted confidant, Jane. She swallowed her shock and cleared her throat. "I—"

Jane shook her head. "Of course you should not regret it. Even I would struggle to find pleasant qualities in our cousin."

The tension eased from Lizzy's muscles. Of course Jane referred to her rejection of their cousin, Mr Collins. She laughed at the notion. "Dear Jane, I believe you underestimate your ability to find the good in everyone. But you are correct, our cousin Mr Collins does make a challenging case. I do surmise he could be the utmost boring person I have had the displeasure of meeting. I truly do not know how Charlotte can bear him."

"You said she seemed content with her situation?"

Lizzy nodded. "She has made the best of things. From what I witnessed, she spends very little time with her husband. She did not complain. But Jane I worry that, without constant companions, she will become lonely."

Jane squeezed Lizzy's hand. "Charlotte is a sensible, practical woman, Lizzy. She is not like you or I, in our need for love and companionship. She is content with her own company. Besides, you said they are quite often invited to Rosings to dine with Lady Catherine and her daughter. And as the Rector's wife, I am sure she will have much to occupy her time."

"Still, I shall make effort to be more diligent in my correspondence."

"You are a good friend, Elizabeth Bennet."

Lizzy recalled what she had learned of Mr Bingley while she was in Kent. How Mr Darcy's own cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had bragged of Mr Darcy's success in rescuing poor Mr Bingley from the clutches of an altogether inappropriate match. Her fingers clenched as she once again felt fury at Mr Darcy's interference in Jane's happiness.

Moreover, she thought of how Mr Darcy and Caroline Bingley had worked together to ensure Mr Bingley remained unaware of Jane's presence in London. How devastated Jane had been to learn of Mr Bingley's supposed indifference to her presence there.

And yet despite her anger over Mr Darcy's interference, Lizzy found herself hesitant to inform Jane of all she had learned. She told herself it was because she believed Jane's heart had begun to mend. Jane was not likely to survive should Bingley reject her and so thoroughly break her heart a second time. No, it was in Jane's best interest that Lizzy keep such knowledge to herself.

That Lizzy feared Jane's reaquaintance with Mr Bingley would bring further interactions with Mr Darcy was inconsequential to her decision. Lizzy's own heart hurt too greatly when she allowed the memories of Mr Darcy's words to fill her thoughts. She had no desire at all to be reacquainted with him. Both she and her sister deserved better than the Darcys and the Bingleys of this world.

Lizzy swallowed the pang of guilt that built in her chest. "Yet more evidence of your gift in finding the good in all, dear sister."

"Do you not agree you are a good friend, Lizzy?"

The carriage gave an unexpected jolt causing both girls to brace themselves to stop from falling from their seats. The pause in the conversation stretched. Looking to her sister, Lizzy saw Jane still awaited her reply. Patience was yet another virtue in which Jane excelled, and in which Lizzy found herself lacking.

She sighed. "Whilst I strive to be a good friend, I do not believe I am always successful in my endeavour."

Jane laughed. "Dear Lizzy, your greatest fault is that you judge yourself too harshly. for no-one is ever successful in __all__ they endeavour. That you do your best to be considerate of the feelings and needs of others is all anyone can ask of a good friend."

Considerate of the needs of others. And therein lay the heart of Lizzy's misery. Not once, but twice now she had pushed aside the needs of her family in favour of her own desires.

Mr Darcy, and even his aunt, the great Lady Catherine De Burgh, might look down upon her mother for having all five daughters out at once. They might view her mother's actions as vulgar and distasteful, seeing only her mother's desires for her daughters to secure matches with men of means and position, and believing her actions to be driven by Mrs Bennet's own desires for societal recognition.

But Lizzy understood, despite outward appearance, and despite Lizzy's own chagrin over her mother's indelicacy, that Mrs Bennet's behaviour was borne from love for her daughters and from her need to see their futures secured in a manner she and Mr Bennet had failed to provide.

Not once but twice Lizzy had rejected marriage proposals that would provide the security and advantage Mrs Bennet sought for her daughters. The first, a man with whom she felt nothing but boredom. Were she more like Charlotte, less fanciful in her pursuit of romance, less in need of stimulating conversation and companionship, Lizzy could have secured the future of Longbourn by marrying Mr Collins.

She squeezed her eyes shut against nightmare-inducing visions of a future married to her pious cousin. No. She would much rather see herself and each of her sisters, even sweet Jane, go into service than to imagine any of them married to that man for the remainder of their days.

But what of Mr Darcy's proposal? As the Mistress of Pemberley, Lizzy would have had every opportunity to better the lives of her sisters. Were Lizzy to marry and produce an heir during her father's lifetime, Longbourn would also be saved.

For the briefest moment the image of a small boy, dark eyes filled with mischief and a mop of unruly dark hair curling over his forehead, as she imagined she would have found on the head of a young Mr Darcy, filled her vision.

_"___My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."__

Try as she might, Lizzy was incapable of keeping Darcy's words from replaying incessantly in her mind. She squeezed her eyes closed against the traitorous thoughts, turning away from her sister as she wiped the errant tear from her cheek.

Mr Darcy would never cause her physical harm. Nor would she suffer the boredom she imagined poor Charlotte faced. On a number of occasions, Lizzy had found herself delighting in spirited repartee with the other times stoic and cold man. Indeed, had his behaviour towards others—towards dear Jane and the charming Mr Wickham—not been so reprehensible, had his pride not been so severe, Lizzy believed she would be quite content as the Mistress of Pemberley.

_"___Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"__

There. That was the true Fitzwilliam Darcy. The man who claimed love, yet believed her not handsome enough to dance with. The man who claimed love, yet denied his friend the same. Denied dear Jane the same. "Arrogant, hateful man."

"Lizzy?" Jane's voice was filled with love and worry. Dearest Jane. Always putting others before her own needs. Always worrying about her sisters. Always.

What if Lizzy had accepted Mr Darcy's proposal? As Mrs Darcy, Lizzy's sisters, Jane, would by extension be Mr Darcy's sisters. How, then, could he keep Mr Bingley from Jane?

Would marriage to Mr Darcy have been so terrible? He might not consider her a handsome woman, but Lizzy was confident he would treat her with respect. He was too proud a man to do otherwise.

"Lizzy, you must tell me what rests so heavily on you that it affects you so. I do not believe I have ever seen you display such pallor, nor carry such dullness in your eyes."

Lizzy began patting her cheeks to bring them colour.

Jane reached out and pulled Lizzy's hands away from her face. "Stop, Lizzy. Please, talk to me."

She turned her hands over in Jane's and linked their fingers. Succumbing to the pleas of her sister, Lizzy's resolve to keep her secret crumbled. "Oh Jane, how could I possibly agree to marry such a wretch of a man? And why would he declare love when he clearly thinks so little of our family?"

"Mr Collins declared love? Oh Lizzy, I do not believe Mr Collins has any notion of love. His marriage to Charlotte is one of practicality. It may not be for you or for me, but I believe they will make the best of the situation. Even Mama has accepted Longbourn will not be saved through marriage to Mr Collins. Papa is of good health. There is ample time for any and all of his five daughters to wed and produce heirs. Longbourn is not yet lost."

"No Jane, you do not understand. I do not speak of Mr Collins."

"But—"

"Mr Darcy! Oh Jane, Mr Darcy proposed! He proposed and I turned him away." Tears made tracks down Lizzy's cheeks as she shared her confession with her sister. "I turned him away because he thinks so little of us all, but Jane, had I accepted…"

Overcome with shame Lizzy found herself, for possibly the first time in memory, unable to speak. She took a deep breath. Her whole body shuddered with the effort, but she was determined to compose herself. "I am sorry, Jane. Truly sorry."

Jane pulled Lizzy into her embrace. It was unsettling for Lizzy to be comforted by her sister. While she appreciated the gesture, Lizzy had always taken on the role of providing comfort to her sisters. She prided herself in her steady nature.

Sensing Lizzy's discomfort, Jane pulled back from the embrace, but rested her hands on the sides of Lizzy's head, brushing errant curls back from her sister's face. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against Lizzy's until she was confident Lizzy had accepted her comfort.

"Elizabeth Bennet, you have nothing to apologise for."

"But—"

"No, Lizzy. There are five Bennet sisters. It is not your sole responsibility to save our family. If anything, as the eldest daughter, it should have been me betrothed to our cousin. Had Mama not believed so strongly a proposal would be made by Mr Bingley—"

Jane choked on the words. This time it was Lizzy who offered comfort. Having not experienced love herself, she could not imagine the pain Jane suffered. She did not truly believe Mr Darcy loved her. And that was for the best, given how little he thought of her family.

"Oh Lizzy, you must make promise to marry with only thought to your own love and happiness. I cannot bear thought of you living a future of sorrow or melancholy."

Lizzy tightened her embrace a moment before releasing her sister, leaning back and holding Jane's gaze. "I shall only promise on your agreement to the same." She waited until Jane nodded her agreement, then returned her promise.

Both girls sat back on the bench watching the landscape pass by as the carriage continued its journey. "Perhaps it will be Lydia who find a happy match with a wealthy military man and saves us all."

Jane's body shook with retrained giggles, and it was not long before Lizzy joined her.

Clearing her throat, Jane was first to control her ill-mannered outburst. "Oh Lizzy, I do love our youngest sister's vivacity and enthusiasm in her quest for a husband, but I fear if our future is in her hands, all is lost."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mama! Mama! Oh, you'll never guess. Mama? Oh Hill, quickly, tell me where is my Mama? Mama!"

Upon hearing Lydia's boisterous entry from where she sat in the drawing room, practising needlework with Jane and Mary—the middle and most pious of the Bennet sisters, Lizzy dropped her sampler in her lap. Her poor injured fingers rejoiced.

The riotous ecstasy was such an abrupt diversion from the dejection and woe that had befallen much of town as the end of the Militia's stay in Meryton drew near. In particular the younger Bennet sisters' misery had been extreme, so it pleased Lizzy to hear joy in her sister's voice. That pleasure was quickly overshadowed by shame as recollections surfaced of Lydia's similarly boisterous behaviour at the Netherfield Ball.

It was but a moment before Lydia entered the room, her bonnet hanging at her side as she let it dangle from a single end of ribbon. Lizzy scowled at the sight of the other end of ribbon dragging along the floorboards, for she knew it would not be long before Lydia demanded money from Papa for new trimmings to replace those she treated with such little care. Lydia was followed closely by the slightly older and only slightly more restrained sister, Kitty.

"Lizzy, there you all are. Pray tell, where is Mama? I simply must tell her our news before I burst with excitement!"

It frustrated Lizzy severely that she no longer delighted in the innocent joy and exuberance with which her spirited youngest sisters approached life. Now, cursed by the filter Mr Darcy had placed on her world view, Lizzy saw only imprudence and indiscretion in their actions.

Mama could not be relied upon to take a stern hand in guiding her younger sisters' social graces. No, if the Bennet family were to ever be respected, it would fall to Lizzy to encourage delicacy and restraint.

"Mama is visiting with Mrs Long in town, but I assure you, Lydia, taking a moment to properly greet your sisters and seat yourself for conversation will most certainly not cause you to… burst." Lizzy gestured to the vacant chaise across from where she and Jane were seated.

Lydia huffed, scowling as she crossed the room and slumped onto the seat. Kitty, who had appeared far less jubilant about whatever news had Lydia so excited, followed her younger sister and seated herself to Lydia's right. She too held her face in a scowl, though Lizzy suspected this was in part directed towards the youngest sister.

"Mary, please call Mrs Hill and arrange for tea to be brought in. I think it would be nice for us all to visit together. We have barely been in the same room, all five of us, since Jane and I returned from London. Lydia, you can share with us your news, and Mary and Kitty might like to share what has occupied their time this last month also. I believe it would also be of benefit for us all to put practice to our etiquette and deportment skills."

Lydia huffed again. "Good Lord, Lizzy, what did they do to you while you were visiting in Kent? If you have become such a dull bore after so little time simply visiting with our cousin, I think it very much a blessing you did not marry him."

"Lydia! That is a terrible thing to say to Lizzy." It was rare for Jane to scold anyone, but when she did, the sisters too notice. All of them except Lydia.

"Oh do be quiet, Jane. After all, that is what you are best at being. And everyone knows Lizzy is your favourite, so of course you are going to take her side."

Lizzy let her head fall forward into her hands. She pressed her fingers into her forehead, striving to ease the tension. Around her, the voices of her sisters bickering filled the room. Lizzy did not know over what is was they quarrelled. She doubted her sisters knew either.

"Please, Lydia. Jane." Lizzy sat up. She cleared her throat, straightened her back, lifted her chin and spoke calmly. "This behaviour exemplifies why we need to practise our deportment. Such outbursts are childish and inappropriate. Now that we are all out in society, we must consider how our actions reflect not only on ourselves, but on each other and our family. We do not have the luxury of fortune to temper the consequence of indiscretion as certain others might enjoy."

She looked to Jane, who in turn took her hand and squeezed in comfort. Only Jane could know the true cause of Lizzy's turmoil. Taking strength from her sister's comfort she looked to Kitty who responded by dropping her gaze to the floor.

Lydia in contrast, held Lizzy's gaze. Her head tilted sideways, but she said nothing. As time stretched between them, Lizzy began to feel her sister could see all the way to the core of her being. Not for the first time did Lizzy believe there might be more to her youngest sister than her vapid quest for matrimony.

"Thank you, that will be all." Lizzy was brought back to the moment as Jane let go of her hand and leaned forward to serve the tea that had been placed on the table between the girls. She nodded her thanks to Jane.

"There now, we shall have a lovely cup of tea and Lydia shall share her news."

Lydia kept her gaze on Lizzy a moment longer before turning her attention to Jane. "Thank you, Jane. Though I believe after Lizzy's rebuke the excitement has been quite spoiled."

"Oh do tell them, Lydia. I do not believe Lizzy intended to dampen your spirits so thoroughly."

"Indeed, I did not. Thank you, Kitty. I merely wished to highlight the need for decorum in our behaviour, particularly when we are out."

"Well then, Lizzy, you will be pleased to hear I will have great opportunity to put practice to my manners. For Mrs Forster, the Colonel's wife, has asked me to accompany her to Brighton when the Militia decamp there in the summer." Lydia straightened her back, tilted her chin, then took a sip of the tea Jane had served.

"Oh Lydia." Lizzy shook her head. "Do you truly believe Papa would allow you to travel alone to Brighton for the entire summer?"

Placing her teacup down with a rattle that caused Lizzy to cringe, Lydia again straightened her back, indignant. "Why of course Papa will allow me to go. I would be accompanied by the Colonel's own wife and very safe indeed. Why Papa would likely rejoice in my absence. Unless a certain sister were to whisper words in his ear to turn him against the notion." She raised her eyebrows to Lizzy, who in turn sipped her own tea.

"I think a summer in Brighton would be wonderful. I would quite like to see the seaside, and even perhaps try sea-bathing. Aunt Phillips is sure it would do me a great deal of good."

"Well Kitty, it is truly a shame Mrs Forster did not invite you to accompany her to Brighton also. Alas, she only invited me as her particular friend."

Kitty humphed. "I should not see why she cannot invite me. I have every right to be asked, even more so as I am two years older."

"Well I for one and pleased not to be asked. I should be quite content should you all go to Brighton and leave me in peace to study my verses."

Mary's comment was invariably ignored. Though spoken in a quiet, reserved tone, it was Jane whose words Lizzy felt most deeply. "I agree with Kitty. I think it should be quiet nice to visit the seaside. I think everyone's spirits would benefit a change of scenery."

Lizzy heard the words Jane did not speak. At home, and in Meryton, her sister was haunted by memories of her short time with Mr Bingley.

Dear, sweet, Jane. How terribly her heart must ache. Perhaps Jane was right. Though Lizzy felt they had been scarcely home at all of late, she understood Jane's desire to be distracted from her memories.

Besides, Lizzy recognised the futility in hoping for a love match amongst the available suitors in Meryton. She could petition Papa to allow her and Jane to spend the season in London with their relatives, the Gardiners, but she felt they had imposed upon the Gardiner's generosity too greatly. London also brought with it the risk of crossing paths with certain gentlemen neither sister wished to see.

"I will talk to Papa."

Lydia let out a strangled cry. "Oh no, Lizzy. I should never have told you—"

Lizzy held up her hand to silence her sister. "I will talk to Papa and seek his permission for all of us to spend the season in Brighton."

Lydia jumped from her seat and pulled Lizzy up into an embrace, jumping up and down as she did. Much as she tried, Lizzy was unable to prevent a smile at her sister's exuberant response.

Finally admitting defeat in her attempt to have Lizzy join in her celebrations, Lydia released her hold and took a step back. "I did not share all my news."

Lizzy gestured back to the chaise. "Well dear sister, please do take a seat and share with us now."

With a smile on her face, Lydia made a concerted effort to seat herself gently, arranging her skirts before resting her hands in her lap. She made a point of waiting for Lizzy to also sit.

Though Lydia might be play-acting in jest, Lizzy was quietly pleased to learn Lydia at least possessed the skills to behave as a lady should she so choose. She nodded to Lydia. "Go ahead."

Lydia leaned forward, clasping her hands tightly. "Well, Lizzy, I have news of a certain person we all like. Oh, it is very exciting news! Capital news!" Lydia kept her hands clamped together in her lap, but Lizzy now understood her sister's previous fear of bursting, as the girl's entire body trembled in her bid to maintain composure.

"Oh Lizzy, our Mr Wickham is saved! There is no danger of him marrying that nasty, freckled little thing, Mary King, for she is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool. Gone for good!"

Lizzy's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, poor dear Mr Wickham. I do hope he is not so greatly injured." Poor Mr Wickham, indeed. To have been treated so harshly by Darcy, and to have been denied a match with the woman he loved, only to now be jilted by Mary King. "He must be so disappointed."

"Then it is the perfect opportunity for you, Lizzy, to offer poor Mr Wickham comfort, before he finds a new prospect with inheritance to tempt him from you." Lydia jumped up out of the seat and began dancing around the room with her hands held to her chest. "Oh and our visit to Brighton will be the perfect setting."

Lizzy shook her head as she watched her sister's frivolity. While she did not believe she loved Mr Wickham, he was truly the most charming man she had fortune to meet. She should very much enjoy spending more time with him in Brighton.

Lydia continued to prattle, excitement permeating her every word. "Oh and for me, I shall flirt with Mr Denny, for whilst he is not yet an officer, Colonel Forster himself has taken great personal interest in our friend. It is only a matter of time before he is promoted."

She turned to Kitty. "And for you, dear sister, there is Chamberlayne. Oh, but you must be sure to keep him away from your gowns."

Both girls erupted in fits of laughter before spending considerable time regaling their sisters with the story of time spent at Colonel Forsters, and how they dressed Chamberlayne in women's clothes—one of Aunt Phillip's gowns—on purpose to pass as a lady.

After a time, and much repetition and addition to the story, Lizzy understood well the story, and that poor Chamberlayne had indeed passed as a lady until Lydia's laughter raised suspicion and the men, including Wickham, had realised what was the matter.

The story brought such pleasure to her sisters that Lizzy herself could not help but smile. She glanced to Jane and noted she too looked in brighter spirits.

Yes, a season in Brighton would do them very well indeed.


End file.
